A Battle For Love
by mstar816
Summary: I thought my life was hard. With a psycho father, a submissive mother and a bad-boy boyfriend with an alcoholic mother, any girl would think that. But I was wrong. It really became hard when the hot Special Agent Edward Cullen from the FBI turned up at my door, suspecting my involvement in a situation where my previously mentioned boyfriend has lead me into. I AM SO FUCKING DOOMED!
1. Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE**

No.

This was not happening.

Nah-uh.

Impossible.

Denial mode – _ON_.

My life was _not_ crappy.

My ex-boyfriend was _not_ involved in some major drug trafficking business.

My apartment was _not_ vandalized.

I was _not _attracted to the hot Special Agent Cullen from the FBI who thought I was somehow involved in all this mess.

And I was absolutely, most definitely, _NOT _cuffed to a rickety chair in a stinky dark room, in an abandoned warehouse in the midst of nowhere.

No way…

.

.

.

.

.

_I am so fucking doomed…_


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 1**

With an ever cautious hand, I sprinkled my _Tiramisu Cupcakes _with a generous dusting of cocoa powder. Satisfied with the final result, I took in a deep breath and felt the tips of my lips lift up in a proud smile as I glanced down at my yet another wonderful piece of art…

Yeah…nobody said I was modest…

I glanced at the clock on the opposite wall to the kitchen and noticed I still had plenty of time to give final touches to my cupcakes and deliver them to _Newton's Bakery shop _situated a few blocks away from my apartment. Then I glanced down at the kitchen island, did a double take, and sighed. Apparently, I wasn't very neat while I practiced my mad art skills at baking. I decided to look at it after delivering the cupcakes. Priorities. Or maybe just laziness.

Just as I was about to put the remaining batter in the fridge, there was a gentle knock at my door. With a bowl along with the spatula still in my left hand, I hurried to the door, knowing that it must be my friend, Jake who never missed the opportunity for an early morning breakfast. On my way I glanced at myself in the small mirror and wiped away a little stain on my cheek. That did more harm than good as my hands were already messy enough.

Oh well, Jake had seen me at my worse. This was nothing compared to that.

I hurried to the door and with my empty hand, wrenched it open.

"You know, I don't really have enough ingredients to serve your monstrous diet." I called out in jest as I was opening the door.

My smile froze in place as I glanced at two well-built strangers at my door. They stared at me with disbelieving eyes and I stared back at them with equal wonder. One of them was dressed in dark suit with a white, starched shirt. He was clean shaved and had light blond hair. The other one, the taller one, was dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt which concentrated on his perfectly muscled chest along with a leather jacket. He had a light scuffle which gave him a hard, rough edge. His copper colored hair was mussed in disarray and his strong square jaw looked delectable enough to lick!

"Miss Swan?" The taller of them both enquired.

I shook my head and forced myself to get out of my naughty girl land and access the situation. I noticed the person who asked me the question give me a severe once over. I shivered inwardly, not because it felt good but because, oddly, I felt him accessing me. Personally, I won't be surprised if his assessment turned out to be negative. I was wearing my pink pajama bottoms and a lighter pink camisole that I slept in. My hair was up in a messy knot and I had cupcake batter over my cheek!

"Yes, that would be me. How may I help you?" I asked.

"I am Special Agent Cullen and this is my partner Special Agent Whitlock. We are from the FBI." He replied and both men took out their badges, dangling them in front of me in obvious confirmation of their identity.

I swallowed hard, not having a good feeling about the situation.

"I'm sorry, we realize we are disturbing your plans. Were you expecting someone, Miss Swan?" Agent Cullen asked.

"I-I…No. I mean, yes. Yes I was, actually." I stammered uncomfortably. He knew my name! I don't know what I was getting so nervous about. It's not like I had done anything wrong! It was just the vibe that was emanating from Agent Cullen. It made me feel like I was somehow guilty of something without even knowing my crime.

"By any chance, would that someone be Mr. James Pallas?" he asked.

My stomach drooped. They were here for Jamie? What had he done now? God, just when I thought I had gotten rid of him for good…

"No, absolutely not. Why would you assume that?" I asked in a voice that sounded stronger than I felt.

"Do you know Mr. Pallas?" asked Agent Whitlock, speaking for the first time.

I turned to him and saw that he was also assessing me critically, but his face was closed off, giving away nothing.

"Yes. I _used _to know him." I emphasize. "I haven't seen him in six months."

Both the agents gave each other a look, communicating non-verbally.

"We would like to ask you a few questions regarding Mr. Pallas if it's okay. We were hoping you would cooperate." Agent Whitlock requested, although his tone made it clear that it was more of a demand than a request.

Not knowing what else to do, I nodded and cleared the doorway to let them enter. I placed the bowl of batter on the side table and invited them to take a seat on the sofa. Throughout all this I was trying to come up with possible situations where Jamie might have ended up this time which would involve the FBI and came up with zilch. Sure, he was always a wildcard, but I never imagined him doing anything illegal. Dangerous? Yes. Stupid? Sure! But illegal? It was hard to imagine him crossing that boundary as well.

_Seriously, I am so fucking doomed…_


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 2**

"How long have you known Mr. Pallas?" asked Agent Whitlock.

I stared at the two agents interrogating me and thought, not for the first time, that I should have ended things with Jamie a lot earlier than I did. But I was young, and stupid, and very dependent. After my parents disowned me, he was my only support. I was just out of High School with no way of affording a college fee. When I refused to leave James as per my father's wish, he threatened to disown me. My dad was the chief of police of a small town, Forks where I went to High School. He had always been unnaturally austere and very protective. He scared away every boyfriend I had ever made, even the good ones. I guess I was at a stage in my life where I thought rebel was the only option to deal with him. So I did everything I could to deliberately antagonize him. But no guy in my school was brave enough to stand against my father. Slightest of threat and they ran away for the hills. Not that I blame them. My father _was _a police chief. He probably would have gone through on his threats. My mother saw everything but never said a word. She was used to his controlling nature and most of the time just remained quiet and obeyed his every order more like a faithful servant than a wife.

Finally, I met James Pallas, the bad boy of our school. He was the personification of everything that my father loathed, hence, he was perfect. I started dating James casually for a while. I was never much into him. Now, thinking about it, he was really just a tool to rile up my father. Not that James was that much into me either if the rumors floating around the school about his adventures with numerous girls were anything to go by. But I didn't care about that. He wasn't getting any from me, and knowing him, it didn't surprise me that he was looking for pleasure elsewhere. James could be a way to rebel against my father but I was never comfortable enough to share something as precious as my virginity with him.

Then came my father's threats. What astonished me, and finally made me look at James in a new light, was when my dad's threat had absolutely no effect on him. He retorted back with witty remarks and not-so-subtle jabs. What he refused to do was let me go. To my teenage rebel heart, this act was no less than heroic, James being the first man ever to stand up to my father. So, naturally, my father's anger turned to me. He threatened to disown me if I continued any kind of relationship with James.

At first, the very thought of being on my own scared the crap out of me. But every day I saw him bring my mom down, shouting and screaming at her for little, miniscule things like the meal being too hot, the beef not being cooked properly, the dessert not being up to the mark, and so on. It never ended. And I finally began to realize that it never would, and not just that but also my dad rarely, if ever, allowed me to go out anywhere apart from attending school. I had spent most of my teenage years being grounded. I had had enough. So, I stood my ground and refused to breakup with James.

That was how I ended up staying with James at his house with his alcoholic mother and no father. James never left me to fend for my own and I owed that to him. He genuinely cared for me and meant it when he said that I was the best thing that ever happened to him. He took care of me and said he loved me. He worked part time as a bartender at a club and just barely managed to keep himself and his mother afloat along with paying for his school. So, I knew that taking on a responsibility for another human being was very difficult for him, yet he never made me feel like a burden. His pay at the bar wasn't much but he somehow managed not to let his mother and I starve. At my young age, I had no clue and didn't even bother to ask how he managed to do that, but secretly, I knew that I didn't want to know the answer.

His unfathomable devotion towards me won my heart and I truly and surely fell head over heels in love with him. I did my best to take care of him in the small ways I could. I took a job at the diner and helped with the household finances. I cooked and once, I even tried to get his mother to quit her alcohol addiction which turned out to be an utter futile attempt. Still, we were doing somewhat fine until the day James met a bunch of people whom he introduced as his new "buddies". After that our situation went from bad to worse…

"Miss Swan?"

Agent Whitlock's questioning voice brought me out of my reverie and I realized that he asked me a question.

"I knew James since we were in high school. We were together for seven years. I broke up with him six months ago and haven't heard from him ever since." I answered.

"Six months? So, I assume you knew about the trouble he was in back then?" this time it was Agent Cullen to ask that question.

I blinked once in confusion before I shook my head. "Trouble? What kind of trouble?"

Agent Cullen looked at me as if he didn't know whether I was a good actress or really very stupid.

"What did you think he did for a living, Miss Swan?"

I shifted uncomfortable, realizing this was more serious than James being his usual troublesome self.

"He worked in his friend's garage. He was a mechanic." I answered honestly.

Agent Cullen just kept looking at me, giving me an impatient look.

I pursed my lips and finally relented, "Look, I know he was into some bad addictions but I got him out of it. I even convinced him to go to rehab for a year and get clean. I knew, I went to visit him almost every day if I could make it. He was clean and as far as I knew, he never touched drugs again for as long as we were together."

Agent Cullen ran a tired hand through his bronze hair before looking at me with a firm expression, "James Pallas is the biggest drug lord of Denver, Miss Swan. He's been involved in drug trafficking since 2 years. He used to work for the local gangster Alec McCall. He recently took over McCall's empire and I don't know if you're aware of this Miss Swan, but the only way to take over a gangster's empire is to kill him. We're not here because Mr. Pallas used to be hooked on coke. We're here because we suspect your ex-boyfriend has murdered Alec McCall."

I was sure my jaw had dropped to the floor and my eyes had bugged out of their sockets. I must be quite a sight.

"You're joking." I whispered.

"As to why we're questioning you," he continued. "It's because I find it impossible for you to be living a luxurious life that Mr. Pallas's drug money provided you for _two years _and still think that he earned that amount of cash from working in his friend's garage."

"Careful Edward…" Agent Whitlock murmured under his breath.

I felt the color drain from my face at that.

"But we didn't." I whispered, dread mixing with escalating trepidation in my voice.

"Sorry?"

"We didn't. We didn't have a luxurious life. We didn't even have money to fix our little apartment and it needed a lot of fixing. Most of the expenses were covered with whatever I made by selling my cupcakes. We were barely staying afloat and his drug addiction had made it even worse. Hell, I didn't even realize for several months that the emergency money he used to ask from me wasn't for the business he was trying to start, but for drugs. In no amount of time that I lived with Jamie had I ever had anything even akin to a luxurious life!" I argued with my emotions flowing awry all over the place.

For the second time since I met them, the two agents shared a clandestine look.

"If you don't mind me asking, can you tell us why you broke up with him? Did you have any inkling that he was into some wrong business? Did you get suspicious visits from strangers often in your house? Did anything ever tip you that there was something amiss with his behavior?" Agent Cullen a.k.a Edward enquired.

I felt my heart constrict with an all too familiar pain as I thought about why I finally broke up with him. When I didn't speak for sometime he again asked, "Please think, Miss Swan. Any evidence, no matter how small, is crucial for this investigation at this point."

I knew I had to tell them the truth. Swallowing hard, I started to explain, "No. I didn't have any idea that James was involved in all this. We…we broke up because he was barely ever home. And when he was at home, he was in a perpetual bad mood. He…he had a habit of working out his bad mood on me. He…he abused me. Physically. To the point where it became physically impossible for me to bare."

I heard a sharp intake of breath from Agent Cullen. I looked up from the floor and both the agents were sitting scarily still and I noticed a muscle ticking in Agent Cullen's jaw.

"Did you report it to the police." Agent Cullen asked in a voice that held a hint of barely controlled rage.

I pursed my lips tightly before shaking my head. I felt a knot of shame and embarrassment forming in my throat.

_God, I _so _didn't want to be a part of this conversation._

"How long had it been going on before you finally broke up with him?" Agent Cullen continued with his relentless questioning.

I felt both my hands tighten into fists at my legs. I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking that I was weak and vulnerable, perhaps even stupid for enduring James's behavior for so long. He was thinking that I didn't have the guts to stand up for myself. I knew he was thinking that because it was what everyone else thought when they saw scars on my face or bandages at my wrists. They judged. What they didn't know was how much I owed James. He was practically my savior when my own parents abandoned me without any second thoughts. He had saved me from starvation. If it wasn't for him, I didn't know where I would have been today. I thought that I could change him. He helped me when I needed him the most and I thought I could somehow return the favor. I endured the torture while trying to bring back the old James that was wild and crazy but also very, very caring and loving. I didn't want to give up because _he _never gave up on _me._

So, instead of answering his question, I stated, "I don't see how that is relevant to this investigation."

Agent Cullen stared at me for a long time, his face giving no indication of the working of his mind. Finally, he stood up.

"Thank you for speaking with us, Miss Swan. We would contact you if we require your assistance later." He then took out his wallet from his back pocket and handed me a card. "That has my phone number on it. If you remember anything else regarding Mr. Pallas that can help us, or if he tries to contact you, you can call me on this number. Clear?"

I nodded in confirmation. Then with a parting nod both the agents left the house while I remained standing in the living room with Agent Cullen's card in my hands, thinking, not for the first time, that I was so fucking doomed…


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 3**

**_8 months ago_**

_I was startled awake from my sleep when I heard the front door to my apartment open._

_James._

_It had been precisely two weeks since I last saw him. I removed the blanket from me and went downstairs to meet him. My heart was thundering hard in my chest wondering what mood he would be in today._

_When I reached the foot of the stairs, I stopped dead at the scene in front of me._

_James was leaning on the door with a hand to his injured right knee which was bleeding. His face was busted up with a cut at his lip and a black eye. His short blond hair was a mess with dirt and sweat sticking them to his forehead. He looked awful._

_I ran towards him and asked, "Jamie! What happened? Who did this to you?"_

_"It's nothing." He grunted in a painful voice. "Just got in a bar fight, that's all."_

_"I should get you to a hospital. Wait here, I'll take my car out of the garage and – _

_"No hospital!" he exclaimed._

_"You need to go to a hospital, Jamie! Look at you. You need help." I insisted._

_He turned his angry eyes to me and said in a scary low voice, "I said no hospital. Do you get me?"_

_I swallowed hard. He was using the same voice he used right before his incessant beating began. I felt a tremor run through my veins even though I knew he was in no condition to hurt me right then._

_"I got you." I whispered._

_I took him to our room and treated his injuries as best as my inexperienced hands and little medical knowledge could. I was returning with a hot bowl of soup to feed him when I heard him talking to someone on his phone._

_"I want you to take care of him. Yes, do it tonight. No, don't care about the witnesses. Nobody would give a shit if that son of a bitch disappeared. Don't worry about it, I know I'll owe you and I'll pay you back. You can trust me. Yeah, later."_

_I felt myself shaking from head to toe._

_Take care of him? Witnesses? What the hell was he on about?_

_James saw me in the doorway and asked, "What the hell are you looking at me like that for?"_

_With unsteady steps I entered the room and kept the bowl on the nearby table. Then I sat on the bed near James and began in a tender voice, "Jamie, what were you talking about on the phone? You said it was just a bar fight. Why were you talking about witnesses and what not?"_

_His eyes flashed dangerously and he leaned forward. Automatically, my arms went up in an attempt to shield myself from the impending blows, preparing myself for the worse. When they didn't come soon enough, I opened my eyes dubiously. I saw James staring at the bowl of soup that I made for him sitting on the table. Then his eyes came back to me. His eyes lost a little of their intensity and he sighed._

_"It's nothing, baby. I wasn't intending to do him permanent harm. I just wanted to teach a lesson to the person who did this to me, you understand?" he replied, talking to me like I was a child._

_"James, let's just tell the police about it and let them do their work. They'll catch him and he'll probably learn his lesson the right way. Please, _please _don't do something that might make the police come after you. It was just a bar fight. He was probably drunk. Not that it excuses his behavior, but asking someone to rough him up just to get revenge seems pointless." I tried to convince him._

_James stared at me for a while before putting his hand around my neck and giving me a gentle kiss on the forehead. This was a side of him that he very rarely showed now-a-days._

_"Alright, honey. I'll ask my friend to not go through with it. Okay?"_

_I nodded, relieved._

_"Now feed me that delicious smelling soup, will you?"_

_I smiled a small smile and picked up the bowl._

_And stupidly, stupidly, _stupidly _believed him…_


End file.
